Manolito bit down on his first response, forcing the sudden fear down. Emotions were much more difficult to deal with than he'd remembered. If he converted MaryAnn, and the wolf protested, it might kill her. No one, not even Vlad, remembered the pairing of a wolf and a Carpathian.

"Manolito?" Her fingers drifted over his face, tracing his cheekbones, gentle, filled with love.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his face away from her so she wouldn't see him fight back the way she affected him. She shook him with her tenderness. With love. Being a lifemate seemed so simple, yet it was far more complex than he had ever considered. He wanted her conversion for himself. He had pride in what and who he was, but at the same time, he wouldn't-couldn't-risk her.

"Ask me for the moon, MaryAnn, and I will find a way to get it for you. But not this. Not when we do not know what will happen."

"You are changing. You said so yourself." She pressed kisses along his strong jaw and up to the corner of his mouth. "Whatever you are, I want to be. I've thought about this a lot. I had plenty of time while I was fighting off vampires and mages and jaguar-men. It's really rare to find someone you love, and even rarer to have them love you back."

"We will still have that," he said gently and reached up to pull her down on top of him. He couldn't look into her eyes and not give her whatever she wanted. "We will always have that." When had it started? When had she turned his world upside down? His stomach was jittery and his heart melted the moment he looked at her. His brothers would laugh if they knew. He rubbed his chin on top of her head, feeling her hair catch like tiny threads binding them together. With a thought, he removed her top, sending it sailing to the floor so he could smooth his hand down her soft back.

"Do you feel the wolf inside you?" She rolled over to pillow her head on his shoulder. "Because his scent is all over you-and all over me. He's there, I know he is, reaching for my wolf when we make love. That's probably why you're even more dominant than when I first laid eyes on you." He'd taken her breath away even then. "That's why you rub your body all over mine, to get your scent on me, and that's a wolf trait."

"It's a Carpathian trait."

She laughed, and he felt the sound moving through his body like small electrical currents. "Don't say that like it's a good thing. I'm not going into this relationship with rose-colored glasses. It has occurred to me you might be difficult to live with."

He bit her neck, his teeth gentle, scraping back and forth over her pulse while the breath caught and held in her lungs. "As long as you do everything I say, I think life will be easy."

The teasing note in his voice was almost as sexy as the way his hands came up to cover her breasts. He simply cupped the undersides in his palms, holding her close to him for a long moment before he slipped out from under her head, one arm wrapping around her waist and rolling her onto her side to face him. The way he did it, his hands so strong and sure, his movements decisive, sent a shiver of excitement up her spine.

She couldn't imagine never wanting him like this. The ache was so strong she thought she might die from the mixture of need, want and love. His body was firm and hot, hard and aching for her. She read it in his mind, felt it in the way his body was so thick and hard already, pressing against her thigh.

"You aren't going to distract me, Manolito," she whispered. "Don't you see how important it is that I make this decision for myself? It has to be my decision."

He nuzzled her throat, inhaled her warm, feminine scent, was pleased that his scent lingered over her skin. His tongue touched her pulse, swirled over the small, inviting dip before he pressed his lips to the temptation.

MaryAnn closed her eyes. Maybe he was going to distract her. Her heart beat in time to his. Her body should have been thoroughly sated, but, no, she was hungry for him all over again. He touched her and she was lost. He looked at her and she was lost. She gave a little groan and reached up to wrap her arm around his head and hold him to her. "I'm so pathetic when it comes to you."

His lips brushed her shoulder when he smiled, sending little darts of fire streaking over her skin to the swell of her breasts. At once she felt achy and tight.

"No more than I am with you," he murmured and shifted closer so that his mouth could wander across the soft, firm mound.

His tongue touched the small spot where his mark had lingered for so long, and at once she felt it burn and throb. Her body answered between her legs with that same burning and throbbing sensation, only a thousand times more powerful, so that she shifted restlessly.

"Does it matter to you that I want this?" Was that her voice, so breathy with anticipation she could barely recognize herself?

"You and what you want always matters," he replied, lifting his head, his black eyes searching hers.

"I need this, Manolito. Like you need my body and heart. I need the same from you. You have to trust me enough to know my own mind."

"It isn't a matter of trust, MaryAnn." He rolled over, away from her, but not before she caught a flash of uneasiness in him. Of wariness. Of something pushing close to desperation.

She didn't understand his mixed feelings. It was simple enough. Riordan had brought Juliette into his life. Manolito had brought Luiz. Now that she knew what her wolf was, now that she understood the protection and strength that it gave her, she loved it, but she loved Manolito more. She wanted a full life with him. She'd caught glimpses in his mind of what the reality would be if she did not become Carpathian. She would not be able to go to ground with him, and he would often need to rejuvenate. She would be aboveground, suffering the effects. There would be no days for him, few nights for her.

"We can't live like that, not and be happy the way we were meant," she said.

He turned back to her, his palm cupping the back of her head. "I can make you happy, MaryAnn. Through it all, I can do that."

"But I couldn't make you happy. I want this for myself, not for you. Because for the first time I know what life can be like sharing it with someone else. I feel as if I've been handed a miracle."

A smile softened the hard edge of his mouth. "That is the way I feel, MaryAnn. You are that miracle, and to chance losing you..."

"Why would you lose me? Juliette made it through."

His fingers raked through his hair. "It is different."

"How? Explain to me how it is different."

Exasperated, he sighed. "I see what you meant when you told me you were stubborn." He sat up and ran both hands through his hair again, shoving the long hair behind his shoulders and then abruptly leaning over to kiss her. "This is something you are absolutely certain you want to do?"

She curled her fingers around his nape and drew his head down to hers for another kiss. His mouth was like a heated furnace, ready to catch fire at the least provocation. "I want to spend every moment I can with you in the best way possible."

He let his breath out. "Do not think you will get your way in all things, sivamet."

She rolled onto her back, her hair spread across the pillow, and smiled up at him. "Of course I will."

He leapt out of bed and was gone. He simply dissolved to vapor in front of her eyes, streaming down the narrow tunnel toward the entrance. MaryAnn's heart slammed hard against her chest.

What are you doing? She sprang up and dashed after him, running barefoot, forgetting all about bugs and anything else to do with caves, in her concern for Manolito. She merged her mind with his, even as she used the wolf's speed to try to catch him.

He was not risking her without knowing what would happen. His resolve was absolute. He didn't want to be with her in case it all went wrong fast.

Don't you dare! She shouted it in her mind, his mind, burying as much compulsion in as she was capable of using. Her breath came out in a ragged sob. Manolito. No. You can't do this.

She felt the brush of his fingers on her face and then he was gone from her, pushing her out of his mind to ensure her safety. She felt the ground shake and knew the entrance was opened. Putting on a burst of speed, she pumped her arms, racing to get there before he could close it.

The rock walls slammed together with a grinding noise that reverberated through her mind. She threw back her head and howled, somewhere between fury and terror.

If I do not return, the door will open at sunset.

She slammed both palms over the boulders, a sob welling up in her throat. If you do not return, there is no reason for the door to open. Please, Manolito, I've changed my mind. I don't want this. Come back.

I will not risk you.

It's my risk to take, she pleaded.

She felt his sigh in her mind, and again his fingers seemed to brush over her skin.

You do not understand. You are more than my heart. You are my very soul. There is nothing-no one-on this earth more important to me. I do not want you to feel the fire of conversion. I do not want you to ever experience pain. And I will not risk your life or sanity until I have risked my own first to know that it can be done without harm to you.

She pressed her hand to her mouth hard to stifle the weeping. Crying wasn't going to stop him. Compulsion wasn't going to stop him. If you really love me...

His laughter was soft in her ear. It is out of love that I do this. Go back and sit on the bed and wait for me. If I

return, we will complete the conversion. If I do not, go to my brothers and allow them to care for you.

There was seduction in his voice. The image of her sitting on the bed naked, waiting for him to return to her, was in his mind. She wanted to throw something. She leaned down to find a loose rock on the cavern floor, wrapped her fist around it and, in a storm of rage, flung it at the door, furious that he would expect her to meekly wait for him. To think that he would come back and they would have sex. Wild, uninhibited wolf sex. Oh, God, he was so right.

Manolito. She tried again. You matter as much to me as I do to you. At least let us do this together. Let me out. Or stay merged with me.

I will not risk you.

He broke the connection once more and she felt alone. So alone. MaryAnn walked back to the chamber, her heart so heavy she felt it might shatter into a million pieces. If something went wrong... If she lost him now... How could he have done it again? Taken the decision making out of her hands? Anger faded away as realization hit her. If he didn't come back, she had nothing at all. There would be no reason for anger. No reason at all. Just emptiness, just a terrible black hole that would eventually swallow her.

"What were you thinking?" she whispered aloud, not certain if she was asking him or herself the question. She sank onto the bed, ignoring the tears streaming down her face, just letting them fall.

Manolito inhaled the night air, dragging it deep into his lungs. He felt the wolf inside leap forward, processing data every bit as fast as a Carpathian could. MaryAnn had infected him with her wolf's blood, and as the wolf inside had grown stronger, he had expected his Carpathian traits to either overcome it, or succumb to it, but so far, neither had happened. The wolf simply had taken up residence and remained quiet and alert. They seemed to coexist, but what would happen to him or the wolf, if he called it forth?

He turned his face up to the night sky. He loved the night, the beauty and mystery of it. He loved all things Carpathian. Was this what it had felt like for MaryAnn, to know who she was, to be confident and happy in her own skin? He had ripped that out from under her. He had expected her to accept his gift of life, of love, without ever really weighing the cost to her. For him, being Carpathian was everything. She had loved her life, was comfortable and happy in it. He had taken that as well, all without thought.

Manolito? Zacarias touched his mind, the connection strong in spite of the distance. What are you doing?

He felt the uneasiness of his brothers and knew he had inadvertently touched them, as they always did with one another before a great battle. A touch to say good-bye just in case things didn't go the right way.

I am all right, Zacarias. I have made choices I regret. Given the chance, take care with your choices so you do not have regrets. I have learned that my way is right, yet so are other ways.

There was a small silence. Zacarias had always been able to see too much. What you do is dangerous.

Manolito gave a casual roll of the shoulders, shrugging off the comment even though his brother couldn't see him. What we have done our entire existence has been dangerous. Please get the information to Mikhail that we face possible destruction from all sides. That is the least we can do when we aided the Malinovs in creating the plan to bring down the leader of our people.

Nicolas has already begun the journey. I do not want you to continue on this path you have chosen. I cannot

read anything but danger.

Live well, brother. Manolito sent his warmth and affection, but pulled away before Zacarias could get an inkling of what he planned.

"It is you and me, wolf," he said quietly. "And the night."

He felt the wolf stir and stretch. The creature was separate from him, two strong, dominant personalities sharing the same body. It wasn't an illusion. The wolf traits, the need to keep his female protected and close, those things were as strong or stronger in the wolf and doubled his own need to act on them. They shared feelings and sensations. They could-communicate.

Are you ready to do this?

As ready as you. She is my mate as much as yours. There was no hesitation on the part of the wolf. He didn't yet understand the Carpathian bond and what it would mean should Manolito die. MaryAnn would either follow him at once, or, if her wolf could keep her alive, it would be a slow, living death for her.

He shook his head, refusing the possibility. If he didn't convert her, she was right, they would have a difficult life, maybe the same slow, living death either way. Better to face the fire and burn quick and clean.

He called. The wolf answered. He reached. The wolf leapt. The change swept over him. Different. He forced himself to feel everything, to examine it all. The ripple of life beneath his skin. The itch of fur. The burst of teeth as his muzzle elongated to accommodate the sharp fangs. He was being drawn back, pulled inside, spiraling down and shrinking, the sensation claustrophobic. His guardian passed him, flooding him with assurance as the wolf sprang forward and took over his body.

Strength and power poured into him and through him, feeding the wolf. His mind expanded as the collective memories of generation after generation flooded his mind. Nothing like the werewolves in the movies. The full moon made them weak, unable to come out and protect their host body. Unable to answer the call of the wild when their charges were in danger. They headed up the organizations to save forests and animals. They worked tirelessly to combat the ignorance on wildlife, plants and the habitats, even the earth itself.

They were power and intelligence wrapped in sleek fur. Amber eyes and a dark pelt of black fur, the wolf looked into the glassy water to give Manolito a sense of who and what he was. There was no terrible movie monster, but a wolf worried as much for his mate as Manolito was for MaryAnn.

Packs were scattered across the world. Small. Tight. Hidden. They rarely came together unless the need was great, but they survived, buried deep in the community of humans, working, living and loving among them. Their greatest danger was the rogues, wolves who refused to be part of any pack, wolves who, like the Malinov brothers, felt they had a right to rule.

His wolf had searched the collective memories of all wolves and had never found an incidence of a Carpathian mating with a wolf, but neither blood had harmed the other. Manolito opened his memories to the wolf, allowing him to see what the conversion would do, sharing his fears for MaryAnn's safety. He was beginning to think of the wolf as another brother, a partner and friend. They knew each other, stood with each other, and his wolf would always, always protect MaryAnn, just as Manolito would always protect MaryAnn's wolf.

Manolito emerged into the night without a single loss. If anything, he had gained-in knowledge, confidence, and his ability to make a rational decision. It would eventually harm them to live without MaryAnn going through the conversion. She had known that instinctively, as well as reasoning it out. He had to accept the

risk for both their sakes. If he didn't do it this night, he might not find the courage again.

He waved the door to the cavern open, knowing she would hear the rocks grinding together as he once more sealed them in. Striding down the narrow tunnel, he wasn't surprised when she came, tears running down her face, hurling herself at him, instead of waiting on the bed as he'd ordered. He kept the smile from his face, but his heart lightened at her reaction.

"What have you done? You're crazy, you know that?" Cream washed through the perfection of her coffee-colored skin as she flung herself at him. She was furious, yet still crying as she swung at him, letting the adrenaline rule her.

He caught her fists and jerked her against him, wrapping her up tight before she could hurt herself or him. "Easy, csitri. Do not hurt yourself."

She kicked back at him with her foot, angry all over again now that he was safe. "Hurt you, you mean. I can't believe you did that. What if you needed me and I couldn't get to you?"

"I had to make certain you were safe," he said, perfectly reasonable. His arm was around her waist, the other under her breasts, both pinning her arms to her sides to keep her from taking another swing at him. "My wolf is very interested in yours. He is worried that something will happen to her when you change, but I believe we are of equal strength. I think your little female is strong enough to go through conversion with you."

She wasn't quite ready to let go of being afraid and angry with him. He drew her up off her feet and moved backward, taking her with him, her body tight against his. His cock was already hot and engorged, pressed snugly between her buttocks.

"If you think I'm going to let you touch me..."

He bent his head to find the hollow of her neck. Warm. Soft. Inviting. His tongue found her pulse and teased with small flicks. His teeth scraped gently back and forth, flooding her channel with liquid heat. Her womb contracted, set up a throbbing ache. She flexed the muscles in her arm until he cautiously allowed one to escape. She wrapped it around his head and arched back into him, grateful he was alive and unhurt.

"You scared me."

"I'm sorry, sivamet. I had no wish to frighten you, only to keep you safe."

His hand came up to cup her breast very tenderly, his fingers tugging at her nipple, sending whispers of sensation floating through her body. There was something extremely sexy about being held like this, his arm locking her tightly to him, his body pressed into hers. He always made her feel sensual and beautiful and very wanted.

Voracious hunger glittered in his eyes as he bent his head to kiss her. His mouth ravaged hers, but his hands were gentle as they traveled down to the soft expanse of her belly. He rubbed small circles there, holding her chin, keeping access to her mouth. She shivered in anticipation.

"Lie down on the bed." His arms dropped away.

MaryAnn turned to face him, studying the stark arousal on his face, the thick erection standing against the hard muscles of his stomach. He nodded toward the bed, and she crawled onto it, deliberately sensuous, hearing his swift intake of breath as she moved her body with the grace of a wolf, slow and sexy, her breasts swaying and her bottom round and tight. She turned over and stretched out, not hurrying at all, letting him

see every inch of her.

She knew he liked her skin, and with the flickering lights playing over it, the soft coffee color was shown off to an advantage. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He knelt over her on the bed, his hand sliding up the length of her leg to her thigh. His hands were warm and rough. Arousal tightened her womb, and she could feel ripples of need deep in her most intimate feminine channel. He was barely touching her, only with his dark gaze, so filled with lust, so aroused, she thought she might have an orgasm just from the light brush of his fingers and the look on his face.

Manolito covered her body with his own, kissing her over and over, taking his time, being as gentle and as patient as he could. His touch was tender as he aroused her body. He wanted her to know love. To feel love. To know that he would always stand with her and for her and he would worship her body with his. She would know, at the end of their time together, she would know she had been thoroughly loved.

He parted her thighs with his knee and lifted her to him, waited until her eyes met his, and then he joined them in one long surge that set lightning streaking through his body. Her muscles pulsed around him, tight and slick and oh so velvet soft.

He told her he loved her with his body, leaning down over and over to kiss her as he rode her, as he brought her to a gentle climax. His heart pounded at the enormity of what he was doing-of what they were doing. His own release sent another orgasm rippling through her. He kissed her again and sat up, pulling her into his lap.

"Are you certain?"

She nodded, her eyes trusting. His heart turned over. He drew her into his arms, his mouth finding hers, kissing her again and again, over and over as if he'd never get enough. She gasped as his fingers nicked her nipples and sent an overload of sensation to the junction of her legs, so that her body shuddered with more pleasure. As if he had waited for that signal, he bent his head lower, long hair sliding sensuously over her skin, pooling in her lap as he found her breast. Teeth tugged, scraped; his tongue laved and danced. He took his time, suckling for a moment, one hand sliding between her legs to catch her reaction, the hot tightness, the gathering moisture.

He kissed his way back up to the swelling curve of her breast and licked at the pulse point there. Once. Twice. His hand slid over her cleft, rubbed, fingers pushing deep. He felt the ripple of her silken walls closing around him, clamping down with heated arousal. He sank his teeth deep. MaryAnn jerked in his arms, threw her head back, her hips bucking against him, her body riding his hand as he drank. The pleasure/pain of it rocked her and, through her-him.

This was the Carpathian way. The need of a lifemate. Nothing sated hunger, sexual or physical, as a lifemate could. Her taste was unique to her and an aphrodisiac to him. It was the very essence of their life, a blood bond that could not be broken. He reached for his wolf, sharing it with him, wanting him to understand, wanting MaryAnn's wolf to share that same bond.

He fed MaryAnn's arousal, wanted her to feel only pleasure, to heighten the experience of their ultimate merging. Her life was tied to his for all time, and the blood binding their union was as addicting as her body. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her bare skin sliding against his. Every nerve ending was enhanced, so that the smallest sensation washed over him in waves of pleasure. He moved in her mind, sharing how she felt-the soft satin, the hot silk, the spicy taste.

He lifted his head, watched the two twin trickles make a path down the sloping curve to the valley and below toward her belly. He passed his tongue over the pinpricks, closing them, and followed the twin trails over her breast, down the valley to her stomach. His hair slid across her thighs as he circled her waist, urging her to lie

back as he licked every remnant of her life's essence from her skin. He could feel the muscles bunching under his palm, tightening just the way her sheath tightened around his fingers.

He caught her to him and rolled, putting her on top of him. "Straddle me. Ride me." He was already bursting with need again.

"You can't possibly," she said softly, but she slithered down his body to find his pulsing erection with the heat of her mouth. "I guess you can."

His hands caught at her shoulders. He couldn't let her distract him, and her mouth-her magic mouth-just might do that. "Straddle me, MaryAnn." He gripped her thigh, tugged until she reluctantly gave him one delicious, very erotic swipe with her tongue and then obeyed him, crawling up his body until she straddled him.

She threw her hair back over her shoulder and rose above him, while his hand circled the base of his shaft so she could slowly seat herself. Her breasts swayed invitingly, lovingly, oh so temptingly, and he caught his breath, wondering at the sheer magic of her. And then she lowered herself, one exquisite inch at a time. It was torture, a painful pleasure as she took him into her sheath, so hot she was like a ring of white-hot fire, so soft she felt like living silk, so tight his breath strangled in his throat. He wasn't certain he would survive this night.

Manolito lifted his hands, and MaryAnn leaned forward to tangle her fingers with his. The movement put pressure on her most sensitive spot, and she nearly fragmented right there, but his hands dropped to her hips and locked her down tight on him, preventing movement. His gaze held hers. Hot. Aroused. Glittering. The intensity sent another wash of heat rolling through her. Commanding.

She knew what he wanted. The idea should have filled her with fear, or dread, or even disgust, but instead, it excited her, excited her wolf. She could feel her teeth, sharp now, pressing her for a taste of him. Manolito. The other half of her soul. He slid one palm under her hair until his fingers could curl around the nape of her neck and pull her down to his chest. Seated on him, her body throbbing with pleasure, she licked at the spot just above his heart.

The rush of his blood through his veins called to her. His male scent. The musky scent of the wolf and the heady fragrance of sex in the air-all combined to make her head spin. Her tongue darted out again, flicked over his skin. His cock gave an answering jerk. Her muscles tightened around him. She waited, listening to the steady beat so close to her ear. Rapid. Excited. Anticipating.

Her teeth sank deep, and the taste of him, the incredible gift of life, flowed into her. His harsh breathing deepened. His cock thickened, stretching, invading, sending fiery waves through her body. Her muscles spasmed, and he groaned, adding to her heightened pleasure. He tasted-like power. Hot and sweet and filled with sex. Who would have thought he could taste so good?

His body began to move in hers. Long, slow strokes, almost lazy. Steel encased in velvet riding between her legs, thick and long and driving her slowly insane. He was everywhere. In her. On her. Flooding her mouth, her body, enveloping her in a cocoon of love. His hands urged her hips up so that she concentrated on the fiery sensations as he nearly retreated completely. Then he forced her back down, holding her to the lazy pace so she could take enough for a true exchange.

The ride was the most sensual she'd ever had. His hands slid over her bottom, massaged, made small circles, stroked the long, velvety line between her buttocks, and then he'd urge her up again, in that slow, lazy rhythm. She moaned and swept her tongue across his chest to close the small wound. Her muscles were pulsing around his shaft and her breath came in gasping sobs. She looked down into his eyes.

He was staring back at her. Manolito De La Cruz. His eyes were the blackest of night in color, with streaks of amber, like small lightning bolts. And she could drown in the amount of love she found there. He didn't try to hide it, wasn't in the least shy about letting her see.

He held her hips and did a long, slow circle as he brought her down, so that the breath was driven from her body and the tight knot of nerves screamed at the intense sensation. Her stomach rippled with the fiery burst and her womb spasmed.

"Of course I love you. How could you not know?"

Her throat ached and tears burned behind her eyes. "I never thought I'd find you. I never thought I'd feel a love like this of my own."

"I will make certain you feel it with every breath you take," he said. Tightening his fingers on her hips, he drove his hips upward, filling her so full she cried out his name, her nails digging into his shoulders.

She thrust back against him, driving down, her body shuddering as mind-numbing pleasure exploded through her, as she felt his brutal release, the sudden swelling, the hot release so deep inside triggering wave after wave until she fell forward into his arms, exhausted, lying on him, locked to him, unable to move.

He held her to him, his lips in her hair, staring up at the crystal ceiling. "I have lived for centuries, MaryAnn, and never once did I believe it would happen to me. I don't think any of us really believe it will happen."

There wasn't enough air in her lungs to speak, so she pressed kisses to his throat, and then laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes, listening to the rhythm of his heart.

"I've looked into my heart and soul, and honestly, I think a man of our species is meant to claim his lifemate regardless of whether or not she is in love with him. I have destroyed so many vampires, and I think, given the choice of becoming wholly evil, murdering and preying on the innocent, or staking my claim and allowing my lifemate time to grow to love me-I believe it is the only recourse open to us."

She patted his chest. "Perhaps you might consider courting your lifemate first, getting her to fall in love with you and then claiming her." Her stomach suddenly cramped. With a small gasp she rolled off of him to lie on her back.

Manolito put his hand on her belly, feeling her muscles cramping. She cringed and pushed his arm away.

"You feel too heavy. And it's hot in here. Maybe you should open the door and let the night air in."

He rolled onto his side, careful to keep his body from hers. "The conversion is starting. You felt a part of what Luiz went through. I want you to stay merged with me at all times, MaryAnn."

"There's no need for both of us to go through this. It was my decision." A blowtorch seemed to flash through her middle, so that she gasped and clutched her stomach. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead.

"I'm not asking you. I won't survive just watching. I have to be an active participant and so does my wolf." He leaned close, took her hand in his. "Do you understand? Did you hear me?"

Her eyes were enormous, already glazed with pain, but she nodded. "My wolf," she gasped. "She's trying to shield me. You have to make her stop. We both need to..." She trailed off as a convulsion picked up her body and slammed it back to the mattress. She curled into the fetal position, reaching for his hand. "Make him talk to her. She can't fight this. It will destroy her, but she doesn't want me to suffer."

Manolito didn't want to leave her, not even for a moment, but she was panting, nodding, trying to hold on while the pain wracked her body. She went to her knees, leaning over the side of the bed, vomiting over and over.

It was happening fast, almost too fast. He reached for her, but the convulsions started again. In her mind, he could feel her wolf rising, trying to protect her. The wolf had no thought of saving herself. She was a guardian and MaryAnn was suffering.

His wolf was a part of him. There had to be trust between them, and neither wanted his mate to bear the pain. Manolito kept his mind firmly merged with MaryAnn's, trying to shoulder the agony himself, but he let go of his physical body, allowing the wolf to take over.

MaryAnn thrashed, desperate to ease the pain, and her hand collided with thick fur. She turned her head and the wolf lay beside her. His eyes stared into hers. Deep amber with thin black lightning bolts through them. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful fur.

Let go. Let her come out. She heard the words echo through her mind as she convulsed again, as the pain burned up through every organ and into her very brain.

She might die.

I will not allow it. If you do not, she will not survive. Can you feel her fighting? She will never accept what is happening to you without guidance.

I don't know how to help her.

I do. Let her come out.

He was every bit as arrogant and protective as Manolito. She didn't know if she could bear the pain in the small confines of that space, but she didn't want to take the chance that her wolf would die. She forced herself to let go, even though the sensation was worse; she couldn't cling to anything, had no anchor to hold on to. She heard her desperate scream, and then Manolito was there, in her mind, calming her, whispering to her. His wolf was there as well, murmuring reassurances.

The pain eased, became distant, although she could feel the convulsions wracking her body. She could hear the wolf panting and whining, crying out on occasion. She felt the soothing lap of a velvet tongue as her mate eased her through the conversion. More than that, she felt the two males shifting the pain to their own shoulders, working in conjunction with each other to take everything they could.

Hours, maybe days, went by. It seemed endless. Exhausted, certain she was going to succumb eventually to death, Manolito at last called to her to emerge.

She didn't have the strength. Her wolf didn't have much left either. They both lay panting, so worn out neither could move or respond. The alpha male nudged at the female, stroking his muzzle over her body, clearly trying to help her.

MaryAnn felt them in her mind again, Manolito calling to her. She had to go to ground. It was the only way to stop the pain for all of them-the only way to heal their bodies. She made a supreme effort and forced her way up, sending warmth and love to her wolf as it retreated.

Manolito gathered her into his arms, holding her close as he opened the earth and floated them both into it. Cradling her, he drew the rich, dark soil over them, commanding her to sleep the rejuvenating sleep of the

Carpathian.